


The Feeling is Mutual

by aam5ever



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Comfort, Jak's having a thinking moment, They're so cute being friends and shit, dark jak - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aam5ever/pseuds/aam5ever
Summary: Jak looks in the mirror and sees nothing to like. Daxter reminds him that he's more than just what Praxis attempted to make him.





	The Feeling is Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my GOD active with this random out of pocket fic? 
> 
> Jak and Daxter was always near and dear to my heart. I wanted to try a fic for it.
> 
> I've still been writing, but the content isn't for fandom. It's all original, with OCs and AUs alike. I don't know if I should post them, but if I do you'd be seeing a looot of different AUs of myself and someone else.

The jagged mirror of the bathroom held his reflection. Blond ends with thick green roots, and as the goggles came off he could see how dark the green truly was. When was the last time he really looked at himself in the mirror? 

Blue eyes, tanned skin with some scars... he took off the shoulder armor, along with the ring that he always had strapped to his chest. Off came the reinforced navy fingerless gloves, his hands rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Some bruises here and there, darkened by the not too long time that has passed since the last big battle. Samos said they were safe for now... Jak wondered what next was up that he could only barely make out. 

It felt like ages ago since he was a villager in Sandover. Him, Kiera, and Daxter messing with the villagers, Daxter doing all the talking, Jak usually breaking the rules. Now they were in Haven City, the future of their lost home, and had recently destroyed both Praxis and the leader of the Metalheads.

Discovering what he was meant to be wasn't easy to process. A young boy, himself, destined for greatness... he had stared him in the face and felt the difference of the years. 

“And you wouldn’t remember any of this...” Somebody had said as they sent the younger Jak off into the past.

Jak said, right before the portal took the boy through it, “No, I do remember the light.” 

And he still could remember that light. Burning, purple and blue hues taking him away from the future. Jak wished there was more that he could remember besides that light, but now seeing what he had to go through when he was simply a boy, he realized that maybe it was best that he didn't remember. 

Unsure how long he had been in this bathroom, Jak stared down at his hands. They were calloused from climbing and shaking, ever so slightly, with that dark eco energy. His nails never grew right since that first transformation, or rather, grew too long and jagged and only got cut shorter by sudden breaks. Even now he could visualize the needle sharp ones that grew out whenever he summoned the dark part of him that he was still learning to control. 

A bang on the door got his attention. “What’s the hold up?” It was Daxter. “You’ve been in there for who knows how long! I mean, you're not really one who holds up bathrooms often so I can only guess what-”

The door swung open, Jak looking down at the ottsel with the big mouth before going over to some of the weapons crates. He kneeled down to crack one open, look for the weapon upgrades Torn had slid him once so add to his gun. 

Daxter scurried up his back to his usual place on his left shoulder. “I uh...” He squinted at Jak, who didn't seem necessarily bothered by the company. It was always that way between them. “I hope you washed your hands.” 

Jak rolled his eyes with a small smile. He put two parts together with a soft click, checking the ammo. “Torn says there's a party heading out west to go talk to the locals there. Since he’s a part of the council now, he thinks we’ll be able to sway even Praxis’ strongest supporters into trusting us.” Since the city had been freed of Praxis’ twisted rule, most of the Haven civilians were glad to have been freed. However, some were avid supporters of Praxis, mostly the rich and the undoubtedly paid off. They were pissed about the destruction some of the city had faced in order to defeat the leader of the metalheads, and wholly nonplussed by the new rule that was meant to come.

“I was there during that briefing too, y’know.” Daxter thought about it more, and then had his hand make a wishy-washy motion. “Kinda.” He learned against Jak’s head, elbow bent and hand propping his head up as he looked down at him. “But Torn didn't say anything about us going on that mission, did he?” 

“Don't you think it was implied?” Jak was no holding the gun in his hands, checking the scope. For a split second he saw the cracked, jagged nails, making him rest the gun down in its usual spot in the chest. “Besides, why back down from a mission?” He recounted the ammo. To him, he needed anything to just get over those thoughts of the past and of what he now was. People had called him an abomination. They weren't wrong in doing so.

Daxter gave him the stare down of a lifetime. He could feel it burning into the side of his head, and it make him smirk again. However, Dax didn't see that. “I can think of three, count’em, three good reasons to not go on that mission!” He began to list them off, jumping down from Jack’s shoulder and standing next to the box. “One: Praxis’ followers could kill us. Two: we could die. Three: we could die!” 

“I like those odds.”

“Cut the heroism bullcrap, for my sanity.” Daxter pinched his temple, looking away from Jak and making a show of it. “You're gonna be the death of me, y’know that?” Jak now gave up on trying to busy himself with checking this one gun over and over, looking at his friend go into their trials and tribulations of friendship. “Before you pushed me into that vat of dark eco, I was the most suitable in all of the land back home.” He was being nonsensical, as usual. “You were my downfall, and I can't even wear pants anymore!” As if to make a show of it, he gestured to his legs and feet. Jak went from his one knee to two, eventually sitting with crossed legs and leaning his elbows against them just watching Daxter go.

He didn't disappoint. “I've supported you, loved you, looked after you! You would barely be breathing if I wasn’t around!” Pointing to himself with his thumb, Daxter faced him for a second before continuing as he paced. “And the thanks I get? Getting dragged into deadly situations.” Jak was pretty sure Daxter was just talking to talk right now. He always was the one who could carry on a one sided conversation if he had to. In fact, before they came to Haven City, their conversations usually did go like this. It was pretty funny, and Jak was aware that Daxter didn't mean any harm in literally anything he said. 

Still, Jak did feel like he should get something straight. “Thanks for sticking around.” 

He had caught Daxter mid-rant, so there was a sudden stop before Daxter said, “Uh, pardon me?”

“I said,” He leaned forward a little more to be eye to eye with Daxter. “Thanks for sticking around. Really, I uh... wouldn't exactly be here or the same if it wasn't for you.” Jak rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side.

Usually Jak didn't say much about Daxter’s rants, or moved on while he kept going. There was a known acknowledgement of their attachment and friendship, but... well, this was nothing less than unexpected. Surely Daxter was wordless for once. “Oh... well, heh,” He put his hands on his hips in a fashion that feigned confidence. “No problem, big guy. It's what you’d... well, what you have done for me.” By now the hands have dropped to his sides. He looked equally as sincere as Jak was being.

Jak looked back over at him. “Hm?” 

“Well, yeah.” He made a small shrug as the taller guy sitting in front of him seemed to pay more serious attention. “Nobody exactly treats the furball nicely! Even before the furball was, well, a furball.” Jak studied him. It wasn't often that he and Daxter had time to speak about all this, and he wasn't about to waste it. Even back in Sandover there was so much that had to be done, mentioning Daxter’s transformation in passing seemed like all they could do to talk at length about it and everything else. “You're sort of the only true friend I've got, even though you're a masochistic prick when it comes to the missions.” 

Jak smiled, which faded slightly once Daxter went on. “When you got taken by that Praxis guy, I really was planning all that time to get you back. And what they did to you... just guess I'm glad that you're not too messed up by all that gross dark eco.” He made a bit of a face, as if remembering. “We have to stick together. You’re the brawn and I’m the brain. Besides, I know a thing or two about being considered a bit of a freak.” A grand gesture was made to his whole body. “We’re a team now, more than ever.” 

Their small talk made Jak feel good for the first time in a while. It felt a bit like the darkness was far away. “Thanks again, Dax.” Daxter climbed up to his shoulder again and let out a sigh.

“Enough with the mushy talk, will ya?” A smaller voice from him went on to say, “Thanks to you too, pal.” He yawned, laying his weight on Jak’s left shoulder. “Now, I think all that’s got me tired. What do you say? A nice bath, some blankets, good ol’ cat nap...” 

“We’re going on that mission, Daxter.”

“Fine. But only if we get to have a rest afterwards.”

Jak picked up the gun in his hands again and headed for the door that lead to the common room. It was surely where Torn was with his assembled party.

Life for the both of them hasn't been easy, and it wouldn’t get any easier. They both had things to live with and questions left unanswered. However, wherever they went, they knew they'd have each other to count on.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: aam5ever 
> 
> I also do JnD art! If you'd like to check it out, some works are on tumblr as well.


End file.
